


the silent months

by daydreamsago



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Canon Related, Established Relationship, M/M, No Dialogue, Optimism, Relationship Study, Sharing a Bed, i’m in my feelings, regarding the hiatus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 18:32:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17647727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daydreamsago/pseuds/daydreamsago
Summary: The apartment falls quiet after the holidays, just as it does every year, but this year, things feel a little different.





	the silent months

**Author's Note:**

> this is my weird little take on the hiatus. i’m optimistic, i think they’ll be back soon with some exciting changes! guess we’ll see in time. please enjoy :)

The apartment falls quiet after the holidays, just as it does every year, but this year, things feel a little different. There’s an odd kind of sensation nestled within Dan’s chest, made a home there and all. It serves as both the most subtle ache and a throbbing pain; unignorable no matter the circumstance. Something is about to happen.

It’s like listening to the crackling of an old worn record, just before the music truly begins. There’s anticipation, like he wants to get right to the good part. He’s tired of waiting. These post-holiday months have never felt more surreal, never felt so monumental. He lies awake at night and wonders if Phil feels the same feeling: the wild yearning for that new beginning they’ve been letting onto.

And Phil is right there, for him to wake and ask. Dan he leaves him be. Not all questions need to be answered, just as not all beginnings happen immediately after an ending. Sometimes there’s silence, emptiness until the next beginning comes along. Dan reckons he can hear echoing when he speaks. _Empty_.

He hasn’t shown his face in what feels like a century. He’s spending the silent months reviewing his life, or more accurately, _their_ life. Together, seldom apart—Phil’s days are intertwined with his, akin to a strong-willed vine on a fence post. They have always been growing together, ever since they met, but now, this feels like dormancy. Perhaps it’s a much deserved chance to rest their limbs. They’ve been outstretched for some time, getting closer to the big beautiful sun. (Even the tallest trees must shed their leaves.)

Their bed is warm and cozy, yet Dan can’t seem to get himself to fall back asleep. He looks to Phil, his face softened and relaxed, and he finds himself smiling. So much of his own life is weaved around this man; he loves him very much. He can’t imagine not loving him, for his world before Phil is a distant memory, only getting further away with each rotation of the Earth. Dan often wonders how he got so wonderfully lucky. 

Even after all these years, they still wait for each other to wake up in the morning. It’s a routine so deeply ingrained into their brains that it would perhaps throw the balance of the universe off if they stopped it. Breakfast together is a must; it’s just as important as the greenery in the summer. Dan loves conversation over sugary cereal, and it doesn’t matter if they’re talking about the weather or what happens after death, because he doesn’t care. He’d talk to Phil about anything and everything, if it means he gets to hear his voice.

Minutes crawl by, each one slower than the last, as Dan lies awake. The antipation remains prominent, lingering around. It can’t be ignored. He can feel the changes, though everything surrounding them has been the same for months. (The moon room is just as serene as before.) But Dan’s hung up on this feeling: it’s definitely a new beginning for them. Better things are coming.

The silent months don’t usually last this long for them, but this year isn’t like all the other years prior. The tour is over—lights have gone out, all the smiling faces have gone home. They’ve recovered from all their time on the road, recuperating in the comfort of their apartment together, _home_. They’ve had their rest, and now is time to start again, to start completely new.

Dan knows it may not be easy, but as long as Phil is by his side, he reckons he can do anything. The man has changed his life a million times, and he’ll change it a million more. The two of them will come out of their dormancy and continue to grow intertwined. Twisted together, they will get even closer to the sun and bathe in the brightest light either of them have ever witnessed. Things are getting better. Dan can feel it.

Sleep comes to him once more as the morning sun begins to rise. The emptiness fades as he falls, dissipating, leaving through the doors and windows. Phil doesn’t know it yet, but the silent months are coming to a close. When he wakes, he’ll know. He’ll feel the change, too.

Dan dreams of a house to call home, with a big yard for a big dog, and perhaps a sunroom for Phil to fill with houseplants. He dreams of coming back to YouTube, making exactly what he wants to make with little reluctance. He dreams of many things. This new beginning, _the future_ , holds wonderful things for them.

Phil will wake before him, of course. But he will wait for Dan, and that’s one thing that will never change.


End file.
